


Oh, Well, It's Lovely Weather

by InRetrospect



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hogwartvengers, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, gratuitous use of scarves for purposes of wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:10:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InRetrospect/pseuds/InRetrospect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short drabble involving doodles, snow and scarves.<br/>Title borrowed from "Sleigh Ride", originally by Leroy Anderson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Well, It's Lovely Weather

“You keeping up there, Fred Astaire?” Tony hollered back behind him. The snow crunched under his sneakers, new flakes soon falling in the prints. “I kinda want to get to Hogsmeade before, I dunno, the next millennia.”

Steve only chuckled, dragging his feet like there was no tomorrow. “It’s open all night, Tony. Besides, it’s not like you won’t sneak back after we’re all supposed to go home anyways. Just… It’s really pretty, Britain. Not like you get in New York.”

“This is Scotland, bozo,” Tony warned jokingly, “Call it Britain again and everyone will be after you. Like, small children and gophers. They’re that serious here.”

“Kinda reminds me of home,” Steve commented. “They get like that too. Is that the lake?” He leaned on the path rail, trying to peer around the forest and get a glimpse of something.

“Should be,” Tony shrugged. “Can we go now? I am literally freezing my ass off over here. Or at least my hands.” He stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets and stamped impatiently. “Besides, I need Butterbeer.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You always say that.” He hopped up and sat on the fence, leaning over a little and pulling some parchment out of the inside of his cloak. Checking around him, he sneakily pulled out a pencil and began making swift scribbles.

“Whatcha drawing there, Leonardo deCaprio?” He pulled himself up on one of the rails of the fence, leaning over Steve’s shoulder and watching him work.

“That bit,” Steve told him, pointing vaguely in front of him. He peered a bit, then licked his thumb and buffed out something he had done.

“Looks gorgeous,” Tony told him, looking towards the artist instead. Snow fell gently across his touque and shoulders. “A true masterpiece. You should do me next.”

Steve stuttered in his work, glancing over at Tony. “Well… You know…” he waved off, a pink tinge that wasn’t the cold staining his cheeks. “Um. You’re really cold, aren’t you?”

By now, Tony was rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. “Nah,” he insisted, “It’s not really that bad. Just, you know, moving.” He did a little boogie on the fence and nearly tipped backwards.

Steve chuckled fondly, lips pursed and eyes shining. “C’mere a minute.” He patted the fence next to him. Tony immediately swung his legs over. “Gimme your hands.” With a swift movement, he pulled off his red and gold scarf, wrapping it around Tony’s hands deftly. “There you go. Better?”

Tony had somehow remained silent the entire time. “No, Blondie, you can’t,” he began, “Put your scarf back on.” He attempted to shake it off, but Steve laid a hand on Tony’s.

“It’s fine, Tony. It’s honestly not that bad. I’m used to colder.” He picked up his paper again and started again, a small smile on his face.

Tony looked at him until a small breeze picked up, tossing snow against his cheek. Suddenly he tugged his own scarf down, attempting to lay it flat even with his hands bound together by yarn. Steve didn’t look up until Tony tossed it round his neck, reaching across his face to grab the other end. “What’re you doing, Tony? Pbth, augh, that’s gross, I should really wash that scarf.”

“Shut up, pretty boy, and stop moving. I’m trying to concentrate here.” It took him a minute, but he eventually tucked in all the ends and left Steve wearing his scarf, tied with a bow that looked like it belonged on a Christmas present. “There. All done, Lady Liberty.”

Steve beamed. “Thanks, Tony.”

He shrugged. “You look good in blue,” he offered in way of an answer, leaning his arms on his knees. He glanced sideways and eventually Steve’s grin brought out one of his own. “Ready to go?”

Steve looked at his paper again, quickly scribbled something in before stuffing it back in his pocket. “Yeah. Are you still going for Butterbeer?”

Tony flashed a grin, hopping down deftly. “Yeah, we are. Come on, first one’s on me?”

“If you say so.” They trudged up the path again, snow falling on the path and their voices just a little warmer.


End file.
